Monday, August 25, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
Swiftly Tilting Worlds
Amidst the sharply rising jagged towers, cleverly situated above the town of Aguas Calientes, Machu Pichu rests, floating in a world of misty white vapor rising slowly from the deep green depths of forest. Early in the morning, the entire complex was shrouded in foggy white. I stared off into the distance to catch a few momentary glimpses of steep peaks swimming through a swiftly tilting world.We struggled to understand our guide as he narrated the story of Machu Pichu and the Incas in badly broken English. The morning moved forward and the fog began to disappear with the onset of the rising sun. The fog gave way to granite rock, green trees, blue skies, steep terraces, and an example of the ingenious creation of a civilization that once stretched from present day Peru to the tip of South America.
Waynu Pichu, (young steep) stands close watch over Machu Pichu, (old steep), in perhaps the most seamless example of the integration of human architecture within the palette of the natural landscape. The near vertical rise of Waynu Pichu makes for a difficult climb, and offers a true sense of adventure. We ate our lunch at the top overlooking Machu Pichu, and afterwards several of us decided to take a look at Gran Caverna, a stone house built into a large cave. The backside of Wayna Pichu is perhaps more spectacular than the front, overlooking a vast expanse of green mountains, with giant waterfalls lurking within the heart of every valley.
Most of the group decided to head back to Aguas Calientes after Waynu Pichu, but I stayed behind with two others, taking in every last bit. We took a nap on a small terrace situated on a cliff overlooking mountains which eventually give way to the vast Amazonian Basin.
There are many theories on why Machu Pichu exists. Whatever the reason, it seems to only make perfect sense that it has some spiritual significance. It is nestled in between three giant mountains, and although it is a human creation, offers the sense that it is truly part of the landscape, a creation inspired by an attempt to connect with what we cannot understand
We hopped a train out of Aguas and back to Ollantaytambo in the evening. In the morning, we took a bus back to Cusco, one step closer to home. In the swiftly tilting world of the Incas, I came to the realization that my own world has slowly tilted through the adventures of the past month. Perhaps not vastly different, but I am certainly no longer the same person I was when I left home, slightly changed, hopefully improved, and leaving this experience with a bit more wisdom and perspective on the world and the role I hope to play in the big picture.
Many men have the heart. Many men have the intellect. Many have the athleticism, the wit, the candor, the brilliance, the courage to change to the world, but none of these alone is enough. It is necessary to use these qualities to find compassion, and to gain perspective on the great inequities of our time. It is only when we see these inequities and face them with open arms and a bold heart that humanity may truly move forward.
I will do my best.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
15,000
Our stay in Chilca is finally over. Although we will not soon forget our host families, and the incredible cross cultural impact we shared, it is fair to say most of us were ready for a change of scenery. Currently, we are in Aguas Calientes, a small town near the base of Machu Pichu, and tomorrow we will set out for a long day hiking the ruins. We finished our project in Chilca, and left behind a sustainable way for the community to earn money for their school. The guinea pig barn will be used to educate the children of Chilca on how to raise guinea pigs, and at the same time earn an estimated three hundred dollars per month, to be used for school supplies, and perhaps the possibility of an internet connection in the future.
I was able to attend a Peruvian baptism at a catholic church in the city of Urubamba with our host family. We spent most of the day at the family house in Urubamba, helping the family prepare a feast consisting of nine ducks, potatoes, noodles, and of course, a giant cake. We cooked the ducks in the town oven, sliding each one deep into the fiery furnace, the smell of an assortment of spices filling the air. The baptism was a simple ceremony, family members only. Afterward, the family opened the church doors and a small crowd of townspeople gathered around, hands in the air, waiting for the family to throw a collection of candies into the streets, celebrating the event, and marking the start of the party.
We walked through the narrow streets back to a large blue house tucked away in a quiet alleyway. The father of the baby was a lawyer, a proud father, and a gracious host. He welcomed us into his home with open arms, and we were promptly introduced to the entire extended family. The food was incredible, and was immediately followed by Peruvian music and dancing. We had our fair share of laughs as we joined in on the festivities.
Our host mother, Hilda, introduced us to her younger sister, and nephew, Ociel. Ociel was four years old, full of energy, and became a fast friend. After the party, we took Ociel with us, back to Chilca. We piled into a taxi and began the journey home. About halfway through our ride, the driver began to pray, sign hail marys in the air, and cross his chest. I quickly realized our seemingly trustworthy driver was likely a few six packs deep into the evening, and he was apparently unconcerned with what side of the rode we drove upon. Ociel sat on my lap and was fast asleep. It was a strange feeling, but I could not help but feel overwhelming responsible for this small child, a bit like his protector, his father. I later found out that his mother left his father because he abused him as a small child.
We made it home in one piece and fell fast asleep after a long day. A few days later left for what became the highlight of the trip, and a truly unforgettable experience. We piled into an old rusty truck and began an ascent high into the Andes. We started our hike near thirteen thousand feet, and summited around fifteen thousand where we pitched camp and slept for the night. The air was thin, and the terrain steep. Midway through the hike the entire group was enveloped in a snow storm. We spread across the open terrain and hiked through near white out conditions at time. We were invigorated by the challenge of the conditions and moved forward with smiles on our faces. After a quick stop for lunch, we made our final push for the summit, and our camp for the night. The effects of altitude set in, and conversations bordered on the absurd, as we laughed our way to the most glorious vista I have yet to witness.
When I arrived at the summit, I was overcome by a complex flood of emotion, the triumph of completing the hike, yes, but a sudden burst of much deeper thought. I thought about the time spent imagining this one particular moment, long ago inspired by childhood adventures. I thought about the world, this life, and the delicate balance of happiness for which most of us constantly seek to attain. Thoughts of death, tragedy, struggle, happiness, and joy swam throughout my head, comingling in an overwhelming moment of the most melancholy happiness I have ever experienced. I stood still, staring into the ephermal sky, and let every bit of the feeling melt over me like a quiet stone. I wept tears of joy, because for one brief moment, I felt that perhaps, I experienced some small piece of understanding.
I was able to attend a Peruvian baptism at a catholic church in the city of Urubamba with our host family. We spent most of the day at the family house in Urubamba, helping the family prepare a feast consisting of nine ducks, potatoes, noodles, and of course, a giant cake. We cooked the ducks in the town oven, sliding each one deep into the fiery furnace, the smell of an assortment of spices filling the air. The baptism was a simple ceremony, family members only. Afterward, the family opened the church doors and a small crowd of townspeople gathered around, hands in the air, waiting for the family to throw a collection of candies into the streets, celebrating the event, and marking the start of the party.
We walked through the narrow streets back to a large blue house tucked away in a quiet alleyway. The father of the baby was a lawyer, a proud father, and a gracious host. He welcomed us into his home with open arms, and we were promptly introduced to the entire extended family. The food was incredible, and was immediately followed by Peruvian music and dancing. We had our fair share of laughs as we joined in on the festivities.
Our host mother, Hilda, introduced us to her younger sister, and nephew, Ociel. Ociel was four years old, full of energy, and became a fast friend. After the party, we took Ociel with us, back to Chilca. We piled into a taxi and began the journey home. About halfway through our ride, the driver began to pray, sign hail marys in the air, and cross his chest. I quickly realized our seemingly trustworthy driver was likely a few six packs deep into the evening, and he was apparently unconcerned with what side of the rode we drove upon. Ociel sat on my lap and was fast asleep. It was a strange feeling, but I could not help but feel overwhelming responsible for this small child, a bit like his protector, his father. I later found out that his mother left his father because he abused him as a small child.
We made it home in one piece and fell fast asleep after a long day. A few days later left for what became the highlight of the trip, and a truly unforgettable experience. We piled into an old rusty truck and began an ascent high into the Andes. We started our hike near thirteen thousand feet, and summited around fifteen thousand where we pitched camp and slept for the night. The air was thin, and the terrain steep. Midway through the hike the entire group was enveloped in a snow storm. We spread across the open terrain and hiked through near white out conditions at time. We were invigorated by the challenge of the conditions and moved forward with smiles on our faces. After a quick stop for lunch, we made our final push for the summit, and our camp for the night. The effects of altitude set in, and conversations bordered on the absurd, as we laughed our way to the most glorious vista I have yet to witness.
When I arrived at the summit, I was overcome by a complex flood of emotion, the triumph of completing the hike, yes, but a sudden burst of much deeper thought. I thought about the time spent imagining this one particular moment, long ago inspired by childhood adventures. I thought about the world, this life, and the delicate balance of happiness for which most of us constantly seek to attain. Thoughts of death, tragedy, struggle, happiness, and joy swam throughout my head, comingling in an overwhelming moment of the most melancholy happiness I have ever experienced. I stood still, staring into the ephermal sky, and let every bit of the feeling melt over me like a quiet stone. I wept tears of joy, because for one brief moment, I felt that perhaps, I experienced some small piece of understanding.
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